Shelter from the Storm
by Partly
Summary: Dean had never seen a tornado, not up close and personal.


The second floor balcony of the "Why Go By" motel was crowded with guests all staring up at the oppressive grey-green sky and talking tensely among themselves. Sam was in the room, watching the local radar on his laptop, but he'd stopped giving reports on storm progress after Dean had sniped at him. Dean didn't need a computer to tell him that things were about to go bad.

"Listen up." The voice came from the parking lot below them. The motel manager looked tense but she stood strong against the growing wind. "Grab your kids and lock your doors, we're all heading to the basement." No one moved for a moment. "Now, people, or they're going to be pulling your bodies from the rubble."

The sudden wail of a siren cut off anything else she was going to say and panicked everyone into moving. Sam suddenly stood at Dean's side, computer in hand. "What do you want to take?" he asked.

"My car," Dean muttered as he headed in to the room, "but she won't fit in the basement." He quickly slipped on his leather jacket, and then joined Sam as they headed the stairs.

They were the last two into the basement. The manager pulled the door closed behind them and they made their way down the short flight of stairs. The room was larger than Dean expected but it still was crowded and the sirens and rising storm winds put everyone on edge. The manager was composed and assertive, however, keeping everyone calm and focused. She reminded him strongly of Ellen.

The sirens continued to cycle and the lights flickered off for a few seconds. The darkness was filled with the harsh breathing and quite sobs of the frightened guests. A gust of wind blew the door open, the sound of it slamming against the wall caused one of the kids in the room to scream. The manager swore and ran back up to close it. Dean breathed a sigh of relief when the lights came back on.

"Jackie" The shout came from a woman in the back of the room. "Jackie, where are you?" The room was deathly quiet as everyone looked at her. She turned to the young boy standing next to her. "Where's your sister?" The baby she was holding began to cry. "James, tell me."

The little boy's lip quivered for a moment and he looked at the floor before answering. "She was worried Dad wouldn't be able to find us."

"She went back to the room?" The women looked at the door and everyone in the room looked with her. Dean's stomach clenched when he realized it wasn't the wind that had opened the door.

"James." The mother grabbed the boy by the arm and he reluctantly met her eyes. "Did she go back to the room?"

James bit his lip and nodded. "But she had to make sure Dad was safe."

The woman stared up at the door for a moment, the turned back to her son. "Stay here," she ordered. Then she placed the baby into his arms. "Take care of your brother. I'll be right back." She pushed her way through the staring crowd.

Dean found it hard to breath for a second, but he stepped in front of her before she could reach the door.

"I'll go," he said, "you stay here." The woman tried to push past him, but Dean held her fast.

She stopped struggling and looked at Dean. "Let me go," she pleaded. "My baby girl's out there, I have to save her."

"I'll save her," Dean said. He looked at Sam, who had put his hand on the woman's shoulder, holding her back and allowing Dean to release her. "I promise you," he said, "I'll bring her back. Your boys need you here."

She glanced back and visibly hesitated when she saw the tears running down James' face. "What should I do?"

It was Sam who answered. "Let Dean get her." He met Dean's eyes. "He won't let anything happen to her."

Dean met Sam's eyes for a moment, before he headed up the steps. The manager followed. "There room is the second from the end," she said, "ground floor." She pulled open the door. "Good luck." She slammed the door behind him.

Dean stood for a moment, back to the door and scanned the area. The parking lot was shrouded in an eerie green and dark clouds roiled in the sky, lightening dancing in circular patterns above his head. He stared at the sky; the swirling black mass behind the lightening made his blood run cold. The wind howled, spinning dust, dirt and trash in tight circles. Dean ripped his eyes away from the approaching storm and fought his way down the row of rooms, watching for flying debris and the missing girl. The thunder was a steady but he could hear the sounds of breaking wood and shattering glass over it. He was almost to the last room when he saw Jackie, huddled behind a wooden planter, head down and her arms wrapped around her knees.

"Jackie!" Dean's shout was lost in the howling wind, but she looked up when he put his hand on her shoulder. Her eyes were wide and tear streaks ran down her face, but when he held open his arms, she threw herself at him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him so tightly that he found it hard to breathe, but it left his hands free to pull himself to his feet. He needed to hold onto the wall to keep the wind from blowing him away. The debris was no longer papers and dust, but chairs and tree branches. He could other objects dancing in and out of the churning darkness as it raced toward him. An overstuffed green sofa dropped to the ground ten feet off to his left. It sat in the middle of the parking lot for a moment before a gust of wind sucked it back into the vortex.

Dean abandoned the idea of going back to the basement. Protecting the little girl the best he could with his arms, he threw his weight against the nearest door. The sound of the wood splintering was lost to the roar of the storm. He stumbled into the room, fighting to keep his balance as he ran through the shattered door. A deluge of rain followed him in, wind pushing at his back. He raced past the bed and into the bathroom, leaping into the tub and hunkering down in it, putting himself between Jackie and the force of the storm. He could feel her crying into his neck, but he the roar of wind and ominous sounds of snapping wood and warping metal was all he could hear.

Then it was over. One second they were caught in a war of sound and the next, silence. Jackie's quiet sobs reassured him that they were still among the living. "It's okay, sweetheart, I've got you. It'll be all right." He suddenly realized that he's been saying that ever since he'd picked her up. He wasn't sure if he'd been trying to reassure her or himself.

He waited to the count of ten before standing up and looking around. Jackie still clung to him as his pushed his way past the bathroom door that was half off its hinges. He stopped when he realized that they could look straight out into the parking lot – the entire front wall of the hotel room was missing. The parking lot was strewn with broken wood, pieces of trees and what Dean could only assume was a kitchen sink. His eyes followed a path of destruction into the town.

"Dean!"

"Jackie!"

The shouts pulled Dean's attention away from the wreckage. "Over here, Sam." It was hard to shout, so he carefully made his way out of the room. "We're over here." He leaned against a post that had somehow weathered the storm.

Sam and Jackie's mother ran toward them. "We're both fine," Dean said but he waited for them to come to him, not sure he had the strength to move. His head ached and his throat hurt, but he was so damn relieved to see Sam that he could ignore that. "Your mom's here, sweetheart," he murmured into Jackie's ear.

The girl immediately looked up and almost leapt into her mother's arms. Mother and daughter collapsed to the ground, laughing and crying at the same time.

"You're bleeding," Sam said.

"What?" Dean blinked at Sam, and wondered why he looked so concerned.

"You're bleeding," Sam said again, pointing to Dean's head. "Did you get hit by something?"

Dean put his hand on the back of his head and stared at the blood that covered it when he pulled it away. "Probably. You should have see the stuff that was flying around here. I could have swore I saw a car…" He stopped and looked around. "Where's my car?"

Sam was trying to examine the wound on Dean's head. "Stand still, Dean."

"Not until I know my baby's safe," Dean said, swatting Sam's hand away.

"Your car's fine," the manager said as she walked up. She had little James by the hand and held the baby in her arms. "The tornado pushed the cars from the lot into the field. Most of them don't even look like they were rolled." She frowned at Dean. "Wish I could say the same for you. Why don't you sit down?"

Dean wanted to refuse and go check out his car, but his legs didn't want to stand any more. He collapsed with as much dignity as possible. "Just for a moment," he said.

Sam knelt next to him, muttering under his breath about how Dean needed to stop playing the hero all the time and Dean let the familiar, comforting concern wash over him. The guests were slowly making their way out of the basement, looking around in amazement.

A man came running down the street. "Bonnie! Bonnie!"

The Jackie's mother looked up. "Over here, Phil! We're all okay." He was next to her before she finished talking.

Dean watched as the manager returned the other two children to their parents.

"Damn it, Dean, will you hold still?" Sam was still trying to check on Dean's injuries.

"Leave me be, Sam. I'm fine."

"Fine?" Sam shook his head. "I know you think you're batman, Dean, but don't you think that battling tornadoes is a little stupid, even for you?"

Dean looked over at the happy family. "I don't know, Sam. I think it was worth it."


End file.
